*
an old professor
who had served in the Vietnam War
stared at the lumps in the paint
on his bedroom wall
one day he told me
that he had survived
by reading just one book
I wish I could remember which one
long ago I
got in the habit of living
with borrowed memories
*
*
two towers fall
and we know what we have to do
the geese break from the fields as if the sky
is tearing apart
while in the shed which smells of earth and turpentine,
the skin of the old Marshall amplifier still resonates
the maples have lost the summer, the birches too
time doesn’t flow, it turns
in a succession of lights and storms
history doesn’t exist, it collapses
beyond the highways there is nothing left
and we will have to learn to squeeze our hands into fists
until the whitening of the joints
two towers fall
and we know what we have to do
*
*
the war had started
and we were following it
on green screens
the trail of the missile
spreads out over Baghdad
here it has snowed for millennia
the houses are citadels
and the streets, tunnels
in which the children are lost
never to return
*
*
you don’t know what they’re capable of
the night fallen, they slide
into the bed of virgins
to make themselves bastard children
who will pray to ancient gods
they come from nowhere
and don’t know the value of things
they will burn the car dealer
and sacrifice our cats to coyotes
you don’t know what they’re capable of
they will insert themselves into your silence
until you can no longer tell
how many we are
*
*
the sewers overflow
the rats come to die on the doorsteps
the mothers sleep no more
fear is everywhere fear is everywhere
the price of crude oil is rising
the tv is broken
churches collapse
spring splinters
and the sale coupons expire
without even
a last word
*
*
he had been digging for a long time already
a trench in his backyard
in which he was waiting
the enemy approaches, you know it, the enemy approaches
they will burn down the mall
rip out the grass
at the municipal park
to replace it with sand
and sacrifice sheep
and in your eyes, yes, in your eyes
I see it already, smoking and beautiful
Kandahar under the bombs
is like a spring flower
the one that we buy
and that never withers
*
*
someone started a forest fire
and the air was yellow
like an old slide
in the courtyard of a school
the asphalt was drying
at night, the flying ants
came to burn
on the lights
of the baseball field
off to one side, the minivans
oversaw the players
like purple and green camels
waiting for the caravan to leave
*
*
we will follow the way of champions
who conquer islands and mountains
discoverers of rivers and grasslands
surveyors of sky and space
burn the forests to plant rusty nails
stop the torrent to pour concrete
we will follow the way of champions
eat prize-winning cows
and all the biggest swordfish
to defend the highways
where our blood flows
and our enemies’ tires
never roll
we will follow the way of champions
*
*
eat the darkness, children
the winter is black like terror
we’ll never get out alive
we may well have to
sell the dog
empty the house
and burn the trash
the past is a shadow
and when we would like to
half-blind ourselves by the hands of clocks
it will always be there, just behind us
eat the darkness, children
beauty is a loss of time
and you must accustom yourselves
not to look at what follows you
don’t forget but don’t think
go straight ahead
carried by what was
eat the darkness, children
*
*
we no longer need poetry
neither epic nor any other kind
the world marches to its own drum
it’s up to you
to fall in line
we have buried God
with the dog and His mourners
there’s nothing left for you
but to believe in what we will be
without azure skies and without any bullshit
believe in us
and your children will eat
until there are no more tears